


Not What I Expected

by Penelovemepark



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penelovemepark/pseuds/Penelovemepark
Summary: Penelope Park is not what you expect. She has one purpose in life, to find and kill those who don't deserve one. She's on the trail of one of her biggest kills yet, but then she meets Josie Saltzman, who is not what she expects.Based off of the TV show Dexter.





	1. The Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thanks for giving my fic a chance I know the summary sucked because I'm terrible at writing summaries. Anyway, I know this chapter is a little long but I hope you somewhat like it, any feed back would be great :)
> 
> This chapter has a brief, implied rape mention, nothing too graphic but if you're not okay with that then I suggest skipping paragraphs 3 and 4!

If there’s one thing Penelope Park likes, it’s order. If there’s two things she likes, it’s order and continuity. She likes order because its needed, it’s what keep things in their place, what prevents chaos from occurring. She hates chaos, and she hates things out of order. She likes continuity because it means she has purpose, if what she does continues, then she will always have a purpose. She hates not having purpose, she was put on this Earth to do something. Right now, that _something_ is getting this tall, medium built guy to just _shut up_ and stay the fuck _still_.

He squirms around in her hold; his movements are full of panic. He’s scared, she can feel it through the thin fabric of his shirt. She’s standing behind him, her left hand is placed right on his heart, if it beats any harder it might fly out of his chest. She wouldn’t mind that though, if she could she’d dig her fingers into his chest and pull it out right there, she’s sick of him struggling to get out of her tight grasp. But they all struggle, and Penelope Park loves continuity. The alleyway is dark, cold and damp, and she hates it, but its secluded and that’s what she needs.

The man is still struggling, moves becoming more erratic as he tries to break free from her hold. Her right hand is covering his mouth tightly, the only sounds in the alleyway are the scuffing of his shoes on the damp concrete as he tries to pull away, and his muffled begging. He’s begging, _pleading_ for her to let him go. It’s no use, Penelope knows who he is, knows what he’s done. She saw him follow that girl into this alleyway, she saw the fear in the girl’s eyes as she quickened her pace to get away from him, she saw the devilish glint in his eyes as he called out to her.

_“Where you going babe, I just wanna talk!”_

She’s repulsed by the number of girls he’s done this to, and the number times he’s got what he wanted, but not what he deserved. She followed him for weeks, his schedule is engraved in her mind, and so are his crimes. She knows what he’s done. He _deserves_ this, this is order. She wishes she could just snap his neck right here, leave him dead in this dirty alleyway, where he belongs. After all, rats do enjoy dirty dark places.

After a few more seconds of him hopelessly moving about, Penelope decides he’s in enough fear and begins to subdue him. Quite frankly Penelope is disappointed that he can’t break free. For someone who’s done the things he has, she assumed he’d be more skilled in fighting… Apparently not. A swift kick to his right knee pit (popliteal fossa, Penelope always does research) sends him down with a pained grunt as his knees harshly collide with the concrete. She takes those quick seconds that he’s in shock to inject etorphine (a strong synthetic opioid) into the blood vessel in his neck. She keeps her hand on his neck, so that his head is up right as he freezes for a split second, then collapses on his side. She looks down at his unconscious body and smiles a little, glad that it went smoothly. She always hated the subduing part, she remembers the first few times she had tried to inject into the blood vessel. They did _not_ go well. Lots of blood, lots of panic, _lots_ of stabbing the needle at the neck blindly until they stopped moving.

She’s older now though, more experienced. She’s done this so many times, it’s almost boring. Penelope looks down at the still unconscious man, and up again at the end of the alley. It’s far. She wishes she did this closer to her car hidden around the corner. She pulls out her phone and squints, adjusting to the light emitting from her screen. It’s 2:23 AM, there shouldn’t be anyone around anymore.

Then she feels it. A cold shiver runs down her spine, the thin hairs on the back of her neck go up. She isn’t sure if it’s the cold autumn air, or something else. She feels like she’s being watched, but that’s impossible. There is no one here, and even if there was, the alleyway is far too dark for her to be seen clearly. She’s chalks it up to being too cautious and realises that the light from her phone isn’t doing her any favours while she’s trying to stay hidden.

She sighs and tucks her phone back into her jacket. She moves her neck side to side and rolls her shoulders as quick stretch. Bending down, she tucks her arms underneath both of the man’s armpits and begins dragging him towards her car. When she gets to the end of the alley, she heaves him up and puts his arm around her shoulder. If anyone happens to see her, it’ll look like she’s just helping her drunk friend home. Penelope is smart and calculating. She’s planned this, things are in order. This is the same exact routine as the last time she went for a kill, this is continuity.

She pushes his body into the back seat of her car, he won’t wake up, she’s sure of it. They never wake up. She gets into the driver seat and shuts the door, letting out a breath of air as her labours catch up to her.

_Now for the fun part_ she thinks, smirking to herself.

 

High up, in the window of a dingy apartment building adjacent to the alleyway, a pair of eyes watches Penelope drive off.

* * *

 

Dumping the body has always been her least favourite part. She finds it uneventful. The best part is the actual killing itself. There’s something about watching the life drain from a person’s eyes that gets to Penelope. Especially when they deserve it. It gives her purpose, there are bad people in this world, Penelope has to get rid of them. She brings her boat to a stop, it’s 800 metres from the docks, give or take. Looking down at the five black garbage bags that contain separated parts of a pathetic man who didn’t deserve to live, she smiles a little. Crouching down, she opens up each bag and places three heavy rocks inside them, to keep them from floating up. She ties the bags back up and begins to throw them overboard, watching them sink into the black nothingness.

Penelope likes to think she’s taking out the trash.

* * *

 

There is routine in Penelope’s life. She watches, she notes, she memorises, she takes out the trash. All of her kills start the same way, with her watching. She has to make sure that who she goes for really deserves it, and they always do. Watching is the most crucial part of any kill, no detail can be missed, no movement or habit can be looked over. She knows that shitty people are everywhere, but the shittiest people are those who like to drink. Penelope is smart, she is calculating and prepared, and for that very reason, she is also a bartender at a club.

She hates her job, the club is always loud and bustling, and everyone is always screaming drink orders at her. If she could, she’d mix up a gin & ricin and tell everyone to fuck themselves. Still, she loves her job. It’s the perfect place to watch people, find out who is a shit person and who is not. Everyone she’s gone after from this club has always turned out to be a shit person, like the man approaching the bar right now. He looks at her flirtatiously. She isn’t surprised, half the reason she got this ditch hole of a job was for her looks. Sparkling emerald eyes, beautiful black hair that frames her face just right, a perfectly structured face and best of all, a _killer_ smirk. He saunters over to her, aura exuding maximum dickhead energy. Placing both hands on the bar he smiles.

“ _Can I offer you a drink?_ ” He says, she knows it’s the start to some shitty pick up line. Penelope does a quick evaluation of him. Poor haircut that couldn’t be fixed with all the gel in the world, a button up shirt far too small to be an accident, and a musky smell that makes Penelope thank god she’s behind the bar. Her eyes rake down his body (she’s sure he thinks she’s checking him out) before landing on his left hand. There is a faint line on his third finger, where no doubt a ring should be. She smiles a little and her eyes land on his shirt pocket where, sure enough, she can see the slight bulge of a ring through his shirt. A wedding ring, no doubt. He’s a shit person, but not that type of _shitty_ that she’s looking for.

“ _Unless you want my job, then no. If you’re looking for a drinking partner I think your wife might be interested, that’s her behind you right?_ ” She says, lifting her eyebrow as she looks behind him. His eyes widen in fear as he whips around, only to be met by a crowd of dancing people. He turns back to her with an incredulous look on his face, mouth slightly agape.

“ _What the fu-_ “he mutters as he pushes off the bar and turns around back into the crowd. She gives him a sweet smile and waves him goodbye. She isn’t disappointed by the lack of potential kills, if anything she is happy there is no one. That means there is less trash, and she feels pride in knowing she’s contributed to that. Still, she’s so fucking bored she might actually start to take her job seriously. She’s about to take drink orders when she hears it. A girl at the very left of the bar is whispering harshly into her phone. She’s doing a terrible job of it, because Penelope can hear it even through the ear-piercing music of the club.

“ _I don’t fucking care what you say. I paid you for this, you better fucking do it. Or I’ll pay someone else to do your job, then I’ll pay them to do you_ ”

This piques Penelope’s interest, it almost sounds like the girl is in on a hit job. Penelope’s eyes subtly glance over to her, evaluating her. She’s tall, 6ft if Penelope had to guess (she’s never wrong). Natural brown hair at shoulder length, evenly proportioned body, and a pretty face. She is definitely not the kind of girl you’d expect to have a hit out on someone, but then again, no one is what you expect. Penelope can’t jump to conclusions though, she has to watch, to make sure. So, she tunes out the noise of the club (an easy task) and hones in on the girls conversation, idly mixing drinks to make it seem as though she’s occupied. The club is loud, and Penelope thinks that the girl chooses the club for that very reason to have her conversation. No one would hear her, no one except Penelope (she hears everything).

“ _I’ll do it my fucking self then. Drop off the money I paid you by tomorrow or I’ll have you at the top of the list. Are you listening? Good, then fuck you_ ” she emphasises the last two words before hanging up the phone and sighing, pushing herself off the bar stool and walking towards the club exit.

_List_ , Penelope thinks to herself, _there’s more than one person she’s out for_.

Penelope watches her leave, memorising everything about her. She makes a mental note to be on alert on Saturdays, in case the girl ever comes back. She needs to keep watching. Penelope smiles a little, she thinks she just found her new _project_. The girl leaves her sight and Penelope is about to pick up a glass when she hears another voice, this time to the right of her.

“ _Sounded like an intense conversation_ ” Penelope looks up and her breath hitches slightly. There is a girl sitting at the bar, Penelope hadn’t seen her before, how did she escape her view? Penelope is always watching.

“ _You heard it too?_ ” Penelope asks, she wonders if the girl watched Penelope watch the other girl.

“ _I couldn’t hear what she was saying but still, if she wanted it to be private then she did an awful job. I bet she’d be terrible at Chinese whispers_ ” the girl says with a smile. Penelope lightly laughs, this girl is funny. She does her mandatory look over. The girl is pretty, very pretty. Her hair is a dark brown but on the lighter side, its curled but Penelope knows that naturally it’s straight (Penelope is never wrong). She has deep brown eyes, and even in the harsh streams of blue and red and green bouncing through the club, they look warm. Overall the girl is very pretty, and Penelope feels an interest building. There are two options for her, either she’s a shit person and Penelope sends her home, or she’s a decent person and Penelope takes her home.

“ _She definitely would_ ” Penelope says, smiling back at the girl, “ _would you like a drink_?”

“ _Oh, no thank you. I’m here with my friends and I lost the rock paper scissors competition so…_ ” She trails off, her lips forming a pout as she points both thumbs to herself, “ _I’m the designated driver._ ”

Penelope laughs, and the girl laughs with her. So far, so good Penelope thinks to herself. Penelope analyses every word she says, the tone and the facial expressions that accompany it and yet, she cannot find malice or dishonesty behind her words.

“ _So? It’s a Saturday night, they can all catch a cab home, you should have a drink_ ,” Penelope is testing her. The girl instantly shakes her head and holds up her hands in refusal.

“ _No way, cabs are expensive, and they’re all smashed. I’d rather I saw them get home safely with my own sober eyes,_ “ she says nodding slightly before shrugging, “ _besides, drinking isn’t really my thing, neither are clubs actually_ ”

Penelope nods, the girl passed the test, seems like she’s a good person. It’s too early to be definite though, perhaps this girl is just good at hiding her bad side. Still, she’s interesting enough and Penelope might just have a reason to stay behind the bar instead of volunteering to do dishes.

“ _Clubs aren’t my thing either_ ,” Penelope says as she puts some ice into a glass, then pours sprite and a lemon lime bitter syrup. The girl looks surprised and laughs a little.

“ _But… You work here”_.

Penelope feigns shock, “ _No… I do? Shit, no wonder they give me money. Now that I think about it, I do find it weird I get paid to mix drinks for myself, I wonder if they know I don’t actually serve customers_ ”.

The girl lets out a loud laugh, the sound is beautiful, the best thing she’s heard all night.

“ _You’re funny_.” The girl says, Penelope notices a twinkle in her eye. Before they can continue their conversation, a tall blonde girl waltzes up to the bar and tosses her arm around the girl. Penelope is almost angry at the interruption.

“ _There you are! Why aren’t you dancing?_ ” The blonde girl slurs. The girl nervously laughs and her eyes barely noticeably (Penelope notices everything) flicker to Penelope’s before going back to the blonde.

“ _I was thirsty, I wanted a drink_ ” Penelope picks up on the tone and knows the girl is lying, she feels a bit disappointed, maybe this girl isn’t good after all. Penelope wonders if the blonde is her girlfriend, if the girl is a shitty cheater like the man before her.

“ _No way! Liar! I saw the way you kept eying the hot bartender_ ” The blonde drunkenly points to Penelope, who is a bit confused at this point, “ _you came here to talk to her, you want to bang her!”_ The girl’s eyes widen in shock, like a deer caught in head lights. The blush on her cheeks shows Penelope that the blonde isn’t wrong. Penelope inwardly smiles. The girl isn’t a cheater.

“ _Wha- Lizzie stop it!_ ” The girl scolds, eyes flickering embarrassingly to Penelope, who smirks back. The girl’s blush intensifies, and she immediately looks away. “ _I came here to get a drink!_ ”

“ _Where’s your drink then?_ ” Lizzie points out. The girl begins to splutter before Penelope steps in. She places the lemon lime bitter on the bar and slides it to the girl.

“ _Here you go, one lemon lime bitter, just like you ordered_.” The girl looks at Penelope like she’s Jesus. Lizzie snorts.

“ _That’s sweet of you to cover for her like that, but I know this bitch doesn’t like lemon lime bitters._ ” Lizzie says, slapping the girl on the back.

“ _Yes I do! Go… dance or something_ ” the girl retorts, face flushed with embarrassment.

“ _Okay fine but remember you’re driving us home! You can’t fuck the bartender tonight!_ ” And with that the blonde leaves the bar. The girl turns back to Penelope with a shocked expression.

“ _I am so sorry_ ,” the girl says, shaking her head in disbelief.

“ _Don’t be, if anything I’m flattered you think I’m hot_ ” Penelope says with a wink. The girl smiles with her eyes cast downwards. Penelope thinks it’s the cutest thing she’s ever seen. The girl looks back up at the drink and her eyes go wide.

“ _Thank you for covering for me, even though it didn’t work. How much do I owe you for the drink?_ ” Penelope smiles at her, realising that she’s done an awful amount of smiling tonight.

“ _Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house. From one hot girl to another._ ” She says slyly with a wink. The girl blushes furiously.

“ _Thank you…_ ” she trails off, silently asking for her name.

“ _Penelope_ ”

“ _Thank you, Penelope”_ the girl says, with genuine gratefulness. Penelope knows for sure (Penelope is never wrong) that the girl is a good, albeit awkward, person. She’s about to ask for the girls’ name, but suddenly the girl is being tugged away by the blonde.

“ _Li-Lizzie what are you doing!_ ” The girl says, struggling to stand as she’s being tugged away.

“ _Hope is tired and wants to take this party back to her place so we’re leaving!_ ” The girl looks at Penelope, and the latter can almost see the disappointment in her eyes. Penelope feels it too, she doesn’t want the conversation to end. It’s been weeks since she killed that man from the alleyway. This conversation, sadly, is the most interesting thing in Penelope’s life right now, besides her new potential project.

“ _Wait Lizzie-_ “ The girl says through fumbling steps.

“ _Come on Josie we can come back next week and then you can fuck the hot bartender I promise!_ ” Lizzie says, finally succeeding in pulling Josie away from the bar. Josie sends a quick apologetic look to Penelope, who waves her goodbye as Josie disappears from her sight.

“ _Bye, Josie_.” Penelope says to herself quietly.

 

Sometimes in trash, you can find treasure.


	2. The Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you for all your comments I'm glad that you're all liking it so far! I just wanted to say that even though I am trying to keep this as realistic as possible, throughout the fic there might be parts that seem unrealistic but there's a purpose for that and it'll all come together later! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter <3
> 
> Also there's no posie interaction in this chapter but another character is introduced! There will be posie in the next chapter, this chapter is more of a background chapter.

Two weeks go by before she sees her _project_ again. Penelope spots her as soon as she walks into the club, three men behind her. It’s another Saturday night, the club is busier than usual. She wonders if the girl did this on purpose, to blend in with the people, to appear _normal._ She watches the girl turn around and whisper into one of the guys’ ear, he nods and walks off into the crowd. He walks without much purpose, and slowly, looking around the club. Penelope watches him scan every booth and notes that his task is just to find an empty one. The girl approaches the bar, and Penelope acts quickly, positioning herself so that she’s the closest bartender in the girl’s view. The girl looks at her with indifference, smiles too sweetly for it to be real and places her order.

“One dry martini please,” she says. This is the first time Penelope has been in such close proximity with her, it’s an opportunity she cannot pass up, so she gathers as much information as she can. The girl is wearing a necklace, it’s a basic heart but that’s not what’s important. It’s the chain that worries Penelope, it’s very thin. It could mean trouble, if during the struggle she fights (they always do) there is a possibility the necklace may break off. Even if Penelope always notices things, in the spur of the moment a thin necklace may easily be forgotten. Penelope’s eyes move down to her hands. She notes that there is a prominent writers bump on her right hand, meaning she’s right handed. When she attacks, she must make sure that her right arm is inaccessible, perhaps by twisting it behind her back. If she does this, the chance that the girl will break free is small. (They never break free). She is not that much taller than Penelope herself. Though she has a slim figure, Penelope notices that her arms have quiet some muscle.

All this evaluation will mean nothing if Penelope can’t find her outside the bar. So Penelope does what she does best, she gathers information through manipulation.

“ _Can I see some ID?_ ” The girl looks incredibly annoyed.

“ _What? Are you kidding me, why?”_ She asks, her brows are furrowed and she’s shooting an icy look from her eyes, as if she’s trying to intimidate her. Penelope might as well be a hot ball of fire because the looks do nothing and Penelope only raises an eyebrow and gives her an impatient look back.

“ _It’s club policy,”_ Penelope says shortly, her tone implies that it’s non-negotiable and the girl understands that. Penelope sees the way her face tightens slightly, her eyes flicker left and right, she’s paranoid someone else may see her ID. Normal people are not so hesitant to give a bartender their ID, it _is_ the law to produce one when asked. Yet the girl is reluctant, became defensive when asked. Penelope can see that she does not like people knowing who she is. This makes her all the more intriguing to Penelope.

The girl contemplates for a second, before begrudgingly reaching into her purse and pulling out her ID. Penelope knows that the girl only gives it to her because she thinks Penelope is _just_ a bartender, one that sees a hundred faces in one night. The girl assumes Penelope will forget her name and face, but she is wrong. She might as well have handed over a detailed description of her life, because that is what Penelope will gain from the second she lays her eyes on the girls ID. Penelope will know so much more than just her name.

Her eyes scan over the ID, looking for any signs that the ID may be a fake. That is always a possibility, however if it was, the girl wouldn’t have been so hesitant. Penelope concludes that it has to be real (Penelope is never wrong). _Davina Claire, aged 24, lives at 19 Salvatore Ave, Manhattan._ Penelope eyes commit every bit of the information to memory. She hands back Davina’s ID and the girl snatches it up with more force than any _normal_ girl would.  Penelope wants to say something snarky to her, but she knows that it will make her better remembered. So she keeps her mouth shut and makes Davina’s drink, willing herself to blend into the number of faces that the girl will see tonight.

Penelope places the drink on the table without a word. Davina nods in gratitude and places a money note on the table. Penelope watches as she places it down and picks it up carefully to avoid touching where Davina touched. The girl takes her drink and walks off with the two men towards the booth section, where the other man awaits. Penelope subtly slips the bill into the bar apron tied around her waist. The fingerprint on the note may be useful in finding out more about Davina. 

The group sits in the most secluded round booth, with no patrons next to them. It’s hard to see them in the dim club, the erratic flashes of coloured light help a tiny bit. Penelope can barely make out their faces, but from what she can gather Davina is talking sternly with the three men, who in turn listen with stoic faces. Penelope _needs_ to hear what they are saying. She quickly picks up a tray and a cloth, telling her co bartender that she’s going to do booth clean up.

 _“Jed I’m going to clean up the booths be right back,”_ she says quickly, moving past him.

 _“What the, no wait it’s busy I need your- “_ He starts, only to be cut off as she walks briskly out from behind the bar before he can say anything else. Jed watches her go and throws up his hands, _“…help.”_

Penelope walks through the crowd of sweaty bodies, trying to keep the obvious distain etched on her face to a minimum. She walks stealthy towards the booth, stopping two away to absentmindedly clean and she strains to hear. The club is too loud for her to hear, and she needs to move quickly, this could be valuable information. _I need to get closer,_ she thinks to herself as she puts two empty glasses onto her tray. She moves one booth closer, the one next to the groups. She drowns out the noise of the club and tries her absolute best to focus on the conversation occurring next to her. Davina is sitting on one side, while the three are sitting on the other. Her back is facing Penelope, so there is less of a chance that Davina will see her.

  _“The girl is in the city, I am sure of it,”_ Penelope inches closer to the booth, wiping the side of the table. “ _Davina if she is anything like her father- “_

 _“She’s not.”_ Davina replies coldly, so sure of herself.

 _“How can you be so sure? We haven’t kept tabs since he died, it is not a coincidence that she should show up the moment you do.”_ The man sounds scared, almost paranoid.

 “ _You are worrying for nothing. She has no idea who I am, and if she did, she should know not to come for me,”_ Davina says smoothly, without fear. _“If she proves to be a problem then we can dispatch her as we did her father.”_

All three men look at each other sceptically, the man in the middle looks at Davina, his face contorted with worry before nodding and changing the subject. _“What do we do about the failed hit?”_

Davina huffs, as if she’s annoyed by the memory of it. _“Since our contact failed us, I have to do it myself. Problem is, I’m out of town for the next two days. I don’t want to delay this any further, so I will need you three to carry it out for me. Here is a picture of what he looks like.”_ Davina slides a photograph across the table. Penelope can’t make out who it is, and she can’t risk trying to get a better look at the picture or she’ll be caught. 

“ _What’s his name?”_ Penelope focuses all her attention on trying to listen to what they are saying.

“ _Dan Cavanagh. He has the package, we need it, you have to find it. Do whatever it takes for him to tell you where it is. If you arrive at the address I’ve written on the photo after 5pm, he should be there, it’s his house. He lives alone so you don’t have to worry about taking others out_ ,” Penelope’s heart is racing _. “Make it look like a suicide, leave no trace you were there."_ The three men nod, the one on the left takes the picture and folds it up, tucking it into the pocket of his leather jacket. This is quite the load of information she has gathered, it seems that things are moving slightly out of order. She originally planned to only watch, but now she has to stop a murder from occurring between now and two days. Penelope hates things out of order, it just leads to entropy.

“ _Consider it done,”_ the man in the middle says with a smile. Davina says nothing, Penelope assumes that she returns the gesture. 

“ _Oh, and one more thing. After you collect the package, take it to my apartment and leave it in the safe. The code is 12-34-56, I will change it via my phone after 10pm, so ensure that it is there before then,”_ Penelope commits the code to memory, there’s nothing that gets Penelope more excited than a classic B&E. The man in the middle opens his mouth to say something before he looks directly into Penelope eyes, his brow furrows slightly. Penelope’s breath hitches and she turns, allowing her hair to shield her face as she quickly picks up the last glass and disperses into the crowd. She sees the man scan the crowd trying to find her, she knows he won’t. There’re too many people here tonight, it could’ve been any one of the girls working here. Penelope makes her way back to the bar, where Jed is struggling to make drinks and take orders amongst the people crowded there.

 _“Jesus Penelope what took you so long? You only cleaned two of the booths! You trying to escape your job?”_ Jed says, looking at her incredulously. Penelope merely shrugs.

“ _Spot on Jed, “_ she smiles sweetly at him, he rolls his eyes in return, “ _don’t be so bitter I wasn’t trying to get away from you, it’s nothing personal.”_

“ _Yeah whatever, just do your job and help me make these stupid drinks,”_ he mutters. Penelope gives him a sarcastic thumbs up and starts taking orders, all while watching the Davina and her goons leave the club. Penelope has gathered a plethora of information, but it seems like she might have to speed through her routine. Things are moving faster than she anticipated, but she’s ready. Penelope always is, and always will be prepared.

 

On the upstairs balcony of the club, a pair of eyes has watched the entire scene unfold.

* * *

Penelope is a patient person. She can trail a person for an entire day, even when they stay at home for six hours. Penelope will wait in her car for the _entire_ six hours until they leave their house to go grocery shopping. Even if they do nothing that come close to criminal activity, Penelope will always be patiently watching.  Despite this profound amount of patience, there is one thing in the world that makes her lose it, her worst enemy. The thing that makes her well-built composure crumble in mere seconds. Nothing gets Penelope more impatient and angrier like a door that won’t open after a long shift.

Penelope shoves her key into her shared apartment door angrily for the third time. She’s always hated this door, it never unlocks when she wants it to, and it gets jammed half way open. After her third attempt at opening the door (to no avail), she angrily kicks it before sighing and taking a deep breath. She tries again, telling herself that if it doesn’t open this time then she’s going to break it down with her bare fucking hands. Luckily for the door, the lock clicks and Penelope lets out a tiny breath of relief. She pushes open the door, only to have it get stuck half way through.

“ _Mother fuck- “Penelope_ stops short when she sees the condition of her apartment. It looks like a tornado flew threw it. She immediately bristles and straightens up. She can almost smell the danger. Her throat is itching to call out to her roommate, but she knows that it’ll draw attention to herself. She squeezes through the gap left by the half open door, her footsteps making no noise against the hardwood floor, a skill she spent months practicing. Reaching into her left shoe, she pulls out a small knife, holding it in front of her. She walks slowly through the apartment, carefully examining every inch of it. It looks ransacked. Penelope frowns, it _looks_ like someone broke in and robbed the place, yet none of the obviously valuable items are missing. Penelope notes the TV is still there, and it’s the most expensive thing inside the apartment. _No,_ Penelope thinks to herself, _this was made to look like a robbery._  

She softly pushes open her the door to her roommates’ room, there’s a broken lamp on the ground and pillow strewn across the room. _Signs of struggle_ , Penelope notes as she continues to walk quietly around the room. Then she hears it, very soft breathing that’s barely noticeable (Penelope notices everything) coming from somewhere close to her. Before she can narrow down its location, the wardrobe door burst open, slamming against the wall with a loud bang. It’s the shocking contrast from quiet to loud that makes Penelope lose her composure for a split second, the small knife clatters on the floor when she lets go out of shock. Before she can react, a strong hand coming from behind her is on her throat and another is covering her mouth. Penelope’s shock disintegrates and her instincts kick in. _Should’ve held down my arms,_ she thinks as her right elbow collides with the intruder’s stomach, knocking them backwards. They let out a pained grunt as they’re stumbling, hunched over trying to re gain their breath. Penelope throws a hard punch to the side of their face, knocking them onto the ground. She scrambles to pick up the knife off the floor and quickly climbs on top of them as they’re groaning, holding the side of their face.

The intruder has a black ski mask on, and equally black clothing to match. She holds the knife to the intruder’s neck, and she can feel their breath hitch as the cool metal touches their skin. She’s about to demand their name, when she hears a familiar voice. 

 _“Oh shit Peez wait It’s me!”_ Penelope’s eyes widen.

“ _M-M.G?”_ The M.G nods quickly, panting as he claws at the ski mask to take it off. Once Penelope sees his face her grip on the knife loosens, and she lets it fall from her hands onto the floor beside them. M.G sighs in relief, but that quickly turns into a pained grunt as Penelope punches him hard in the chest.

“ _What the fuck M.G?! What the hell are you doing dressing up as a robber and attacking me? This is some really fucked up roleplay.”_ M.G rubs his chest, trying to catch his breath again.

“ _I was testing you! This world has a lot of crazy people in it Peez, you know that!"_ Penelope rolls her eyes, _"what if one of them catches you off guard like I did?”_

 _“You didn’t catch me off guard,”_ she says defensively, rolling off of him. M.G sits up straight and gives her a pointed look. “ _Okay fine, I might have been a bit surprised, but I still kicked your ass.”_

 _“It doesn’t matter if you kicked my ass or not, being surprised for even a second could lead to your death,”_ Penelope gives him a long look. M.G sighs, putting his hands on his knees and looking down at the floor board for a few seconds before continuing in a quiet voice, “ _what if one day, one of your projects catches you off guard, and you get seriously hurt or you die. The people you go after aren’t exactly the sympathetic kind.”_

They sit in silence for a few moments, before Penelope gets up and extends her hand to M.G, helping him onto his feet. 

“ _I’ll be more careful, I promise.”_ She says, putting as much sincerity into her voice as she can. M.G nods and pulls her into a hug.

“ _I don’t want you to get into something that you can’t handle, no matter how skilled you are. Even coming close to death can fuck up a person,”_ M.G’s voice cracks a bit at the end.  Penelope’s brow is furrowed, and she nods slightly, realising that now he’s talking from experience. She tightens her hold on him as her mind wanders back to the first time she ever met M.G.

_*_

_Penelope watches from afar as her target is walking down the dim light street. He’s going to kill again tonight, she’s sure of it, (Penelope is never wrong). He’s following someone, a younger man. Penelope can’t quite make him out, the distance between them is too great. Suddenly, her target picks up the pace, his slow walk turning into a fast one. Penelope realises that he’s going for the kill. The younger man turns his head to look behind him, a worried expression etched on his face. He picks up his pace as well, head turning back every few seconds in fear. The young man is fumbling around in his pocket for his car keys. Penelope slinks behind cars parked on the side of the street in order to get closer to them whilst staying undetected._

_Her heart beat is drumming loudly in her ear, her mind is racing. She has to find a way to get the man alone, she can’t go for the kill if there’s a witness. Before she can think of something, she hears a loud thud. She peeks from behind the trunk of one of the cars and sees her target on top of the younger man, who’s muffled cries can barely be heard (Penelope hears everything). The younger man is struggling, but her target is too strong to overcome. Penelope knows she has no choice now, either she attacks and is seen, or she lets this innocent young man die. The latter is not really an option._

_Penelope is momentarily blinded by a glint, she realises that her target has just pulled a knife from his jacket pocket, it’s reflecting off the street lamp and into her eye. If she doesn’t act now, she knows the young man will have his throat slit and his inside gutted messily, just like the three before him. He’ll be left in the spot he died, like road kill. Penelope feels a shiver run up her spine, her target isn’t exactly… nice._

_The street is so quiet and empty, it feels like they are the last three people on Earth. Penelope takes a deep breath and comes out from behind the trunk of the car, she comes up to the back of her target silently, crouching down when she is near so that a shadow won’t be cast over him. The young man sees her, his eyes widening in a desperate plea. She brings her index finger to her lips, telling him to be quiet. There are tears escaping his eyes, genuine fear behind them. Her target is taunting him, whispering sadistic things as he softly drags the knife across the young man’s cheek. The young man whimpers and shuts his eyes, letting a sob rack his body._

_Penelope strikes, her fist colliding with the side of her targets head. He lets out a surprised yelp and rolls off the young man’s body, the knife clattering beside him. The young man scrambles away quickly, his chest heaving and tears running down his face. Her target is quick to recover, turning around to face Penelope. They both look at the knife, but Penelope makes no move. She knows he will reach it first, so she lets him. As he crouches down quickly to get it, Penelope brings her left knee up, slamming it into his nose. He falls back with a pained grunt, clutching his nose. She reaches into her pocket for the syringe, pulling it out and stepping closer to him. He regains his composure quicker than she expected, and she is taken off guard when he shoots up and tackles her to the floor._

_Penelope falls back on the hard concrete, her breath knocked from her lungs. The man climbs on top of her and gives her a swift punch, knocking her face to the left. She sees the younger man still standing on the pavement, watching the scene unfold. He looks paralysed with fear, unable to move. Penelope feels her targets fist collide with her face once more, and she lets out a pained grunt._

_“Fucking bitch,” he spits out with venom, “you’re going to pay for that, and I’m going to make it fucking hurt.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a switch blade, a sadistic smile is spread across his face as he brings it to her neck. Penelope struggles to get out from underneath him, but it’s no use. His legs are pinning her arms to the ground, and his body weight is crushing her chest._

_Then she hears it, the scraping sound of the knife being picked up from the ground, the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly, a squelching sound, a sharp inhale of breath. Her targets eyes widen, and he freezes. Penelope looks behind him, and sees the younger man, his eyes full of horror as he backs away from the knife he just plunged into her targets back. Her target rolls off of Penelope and onto his side, his breathing ragged. Penelope swiftly gets up, and looks at the younger man who is still staring in horror at the knife._

_“I-I stabbed him,” he looks at Penelope with pleading eyes, he talks fast and scared, “he was about to kill me and then you, and I-I-I had to stab him.”_

_“You did what you had to, he was going to kill us otherwise,” Penelope says apprehensively, approaching him slowly. He’s nodding erratically, lips trembling as tears spill from his eyes. Penelope looks down and sees his pants damp with urine. Her target is still gasping for air on the floor, Penelope knows that the young man pierced his lung, it won’t be long until he suffocates. The young man is staring at him still, they stay like that for a few moments until her target takes his last draw of air, and the world around them becomes silent again. This snaps the young man out of his daze and into full blown panic._  

“ _Oh my fucking god, I killed him. I stabbed him and now he’s dead oh my fucking god he’s dead,” the young man is sobbing, on the brink of hyperventilation. “What the fuck do we do?!”_

_Penelope contemplates for a hard second. This is not the ideal situation, this isn’t going according to plan. Things are not in order, and when things are in order, it leads to chaos. Which is what the situation is in right now, chaos._

_“We have to dump the body,” she says calmly. The young man looks at her like she’s fucking crazy._

_“Dump the fuckin- are you insane?! We have to call someone, the cops!” Penelope rolls her eyes._

_“The cops won’t be any help, he’s already dead. We have to dump the body,” the young man looks at her with hesitation, “trust me, I just saved your life.”_

_“I’m scared,” he admits in a tiny voice, swallowing thickly after. Penelope gives him a sympathetic smile. He didn’t deserve this._

_“I can fix this, I’ll take care of the body,” she says, looking down at the body then back up at him, “go home.”_

_He stands there for a second, shell shocked. His face contorts, and he looks at her with fear in his eyes, “how are you so calm? How did you even know we were here?”_

_Penelope gives him a hard look, before sighing and rubbing her temple, “let’s just say I’m not exactly a virgin Mary when it comes to this… Kind of stuff.”_

_“Do- did you know him?” He asks apprehensively. Penelope nods, and he takes in a sharp breath. “How?”_

_“Have you seen the reports of the people getting their throat slit and their insides gutted?” He nods, “the person doing it was him.” Penelope gestures to the body on the floor._

_“Holy fuck, he could’ve done that to me, he was going to do that to me” the young man says, as if reality is hitting him, “I could’ve died, but you- you saved me.”_

_“You saved me too,” Penelope shrugs._

_They stand on the pavement in silence for a moment, staring at each other before Penelope breaks it._

_“You should really go home, the longer we stand here the more he’s bleeds out on the sidewalk, and the harder it is for me to clean this up” Penelope says, giving the young man a pointed look. He stares at her for a second, before swallowing thickly._

_“Let me help,” Penelope is taken aback, she gives him an incredulous look._

_“No way, no way in hell am I letting you help,” she says, shaking her head. He gives her a look of protest._

_“I would be dead if it weren’t for you, I won't ask anymore questions,” he says with such sincerity that Penelope finds herself contemplating it for a second, “you saved my life, I owe you this.”_

_Penelope sighs and looks at the body, and back to him. “I don’t know…” She trails off, her mind is weighing up the pros and cons. Her car is parked quite far from their location, she honestly isn’t sure how she can get him to her car, given the fact he’s bleeding out on the pavement._

_It must be shown on her face because the young man speaks up again, “my car is right there, we can just put him in and go, I mean we’re already in this together, I just fucking killed a man who was literally about to gut me. I want to help.” Penelope gives him a quizzical look. She knows he’s lying, no one in their right mind would want to help, this is ridiculous._

_“What’s the real reason?” She asks, simply. He looks confused._

_“I just told you the reason, I owe you.” Penelope gives him a pointed look, and there’s a beat of silence before he sighs and relents. He looks down at the body and Penelope can see tears brimming in his eyes._

_“I almost died,” he says quietly, “I’m too scared to go home, to walk away right now. I don’t-_ c _an’t be alone, you saved my life. As fucked up as it is, I-I feel safe with you.”_

_Penelope is silent, her thoughts are swirling around her head at a mile a minute._

_“If I let you do this, you realise that we’re stuck together. There is no way that I am letting you help, just to let you go off on your own,” Penelope says slowly, so that he understands the depth of the situation, “if you do this, I’m not going to let you leave. Your life will never be the same. You will always have to be around me, is that really want you want?”_

_The young man stares at the ground in concentration for a moment, Penelope knows he’s weighing up the pros and cons. She sees a determination cross his face, as he looks up and stares directly into her eyes._

_“You saved me, I owe you my life,” is all he says, and that’s all Penelope needs. The deal is sealed in the silence that falls between them. Penelope nods._

_“Unlock your car and open the trunk.” Penelope instructs, the young man nods._

_“I’m Milton by the way, but everyone calls me M.G,” he says, extending a hand as if they’re meeting at a party and not on the side walk where he almost died, and where a man is actually dead. Penelope is bewildered by the situation, and that is saying a lot._

_“Didn’t ask,” Penelope says shortly, brushing past him and towards the dead man. She hooks her arms under his armpits and looks back up at M.G, who is looking at her awkwardly. She gives him a look with her brows furrowed, “what are you standing there for? Pick up his legs.”_

_M.G stands for a second before letting out a breath, “this is not how I thought my night would go, I almost got murdered and now I’m helping a stranger dump a body. This is so fucked up.”_

_“Tell me about it,” Penelope says._

_This is chaos, and Penelope absolutely hates chaos._

_*_

That was three years ago, but Penelope remembers it like it was yesterday. After that, Penelope trailed M.G where ever he went, to make sure the psychological damage didn’t cause him to snap and tell someone what happened. She found out he lived alone, having recently moved to Manhattan from a small town, with no friends or family. This made it easy for Penelope to keep tabs on him. She almost had a heart attack when she found out that he was a rookie for the police academy, and after a plethora of threats (from Penelope’s side) and a plethora of scared reassurances (from M.G’s side), Penelope decided she needed to keep M.G closer than before. So she asked (made) him to move in with her, and he agreed faster than Penelope expected. Something inside her told her it was because he was still afraid of being alone after the ordeal.

Somewhere in the fucked-up relationship they first had, a true friendship formed. Penelope started to help him learn to defend himself, and M.G would give her reports of activity around the city. They had an unspoken bond, one that formed _that_ night. One that neither would break, after all, they owed each other their _lives_.

They’ve been hugging for what feels like an eternity, so Penelope breaks the hug and looks seriously into his eyes. 

“ _I promise, I’ll be safe,”_ she says, before smiling slightly to lighten the tone, “ _well, as safe as someone who kills shitty people can be.”_  

M.G smiles back lightly, but Penelope can still see the worry in his eyes. A silence falls over them, and they stay comfortably in it until M.G looks around and a pained look forms over his face. 

 _“Looks like I have to clean this up huh,”_ Penelope laughs softly and looks around as well. 

 _“Considering you trashed our apartment in order to jump me, I think you deserve to clean it up,”_ M.G fakes a pained grown and holds his hand over his heart.

“ _The price I pay in order to try and keep my friend safe,”_ he says dramatically. Penelope laughs loudly and rolls her eyes. But then M.G. looks at her with this look in his eyes, and the humour dissolves from the air and tension fills it again. 

“ _What is it?”_ Penelope says, her brow furrowing. M.G hesitates, his mouth opening in contemplation. Penelope can see that he isn’t sure if he should say this or not. 

“ _It’s just…”_ He trails off, reaching behind him to rub the back of his neck, a trait Penelope noticed he does when he’s nervous, “ _I can’t shake the feeling something bad is about to happen.”_

Penelope feels a weight drop in her stomach, an uncomfortable feeling settles there. She tries to brush it off, in order to reassure him. She gives a fake smile, just real enough for him to believe it, putting her hand on his should and squeezing it. 

“ _I can handle myself M.G, nothing bad will happen. I won’t get myself into anything I can’t get out of,”_ M.G gives her a sceptical look, before relenting. Another silence falls between them, each are thinking hard.

 _“Okay okay, I’m just paranoid I guess, but I have faith in you,”_ he says finally. He gives her a smile that she returns, but she knows neither of them are real. He gives her one last look before leaving the room to clean outside. Penelope lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in as her mind wanders to the night’s events. The club, Davina, the information, the hit, all of it swirls around her mind. It’s both intoxicating and nerve wracking. 

 

Somehow, deep down Penelope feels like she’s already in something she can’t get out of. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you guys think!! I had trouble writing how M.G and Penelope become friends after she saves him so I hope its not too unrealistic! Leave a comment and let me know what you think! Until next time, stay safe and have a good day/week :))


	3. The Coffee Shop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI I'm back! Sorry this chapter is a bit short, I didn't want to cluster too many ideas into one. The next chapter will pick up directly after this chapter, so I decided to cut it in half and make it two seperate chapters. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter and the Posie interaction!

Penelope has never been in love before. She’s never had the time nor the energy, and quite frankly, the _ability_ to love. Something about Penelope liking the way a person’s life drains from their eyes after she slits their throats makes her feel that she might not be capable of feeling love. Still, she’s tried to have relationships before, mostly to keep face, to make her _appear_ normal. They came one after another, and they ended one after another. All of them left with new complaints about Penelope. She’s is too closed off, too emotionless, too busy, too _uncaring_. Inevitably, all her romantic relationships came to an end and when they did, Penelope didn’t question it, she never questions anything when it comes to relationships. When they end, they end. 

Penelope has never been romantically interested in anyone before either. All the people she meets just aren’t special to her, unless they become her new project. No one ever catches her eye in that _romantic_ way, she’s never had a crush on someone before. While she’s capable of at least feeling sexual attraction, anything in the romantic area she feels nothing. That is, until she met one Josie Saltzman.

Penelope is on her daily morning run when she allows her mind to wander to the pretty brown-haired girl. She hadn’t thought about the girl she had met at the club all those weeks ago, but when she goes over all the information she has learnt about Davina from the very beginning, she’s reminded of the pretty girl whom she engaged in conversation with. Penelope hasn’t seen Josie since that first night at the club they met, and Penelope realises now that she never showed up the week after, like her blonde friend had suggested to her that night. She’s surprised at the fact she feels a twinge of disappointment. In their short-lived conversation, Penelope can’t help but think she felt a sort of attraction. Josie wasn’t like the people she regularly meets, Penelope saw a kindness - a _purity_ in her.

Penelope pushes the thought out of her mind. She doesn’t get _attracted_ , it’s emotionally impossible. The feeling she felt must’ve been something else, she’s sure of it, (Penelope is never wrong). Besides, she has bigger fish to fry. It’s been a day since she saw Davina at the club, and either today and tomorrow, a man will be murdered for a package. A murder Penelope has to stop, and a package Penelope has to take. She has no time to decipher her feelings.

Davina had said she was out of town for two days, which means that her goons would either kill tonight or tomorrow. Penelope is sure that they will choose tonight because she would as well so, naturally, she trusts her own judgement. She _is_ a cold-blooded killer after all. The goons will be there at any time after 5 pm, she has yet to figure out how to both stop the three men while also gaining the package. She needs time to think about this, plan this out. This isn’t like any of the other normal kills she goes for, so she has to make up a new order, a new routine. Three men against one Penelope seems like odds that she doesn’t want to take, she’ll have to ask for M.G’s help.

Penelope slows her run to a halt outside her regular coffee shop, just like she does every day. She checks her watch, it’s exactly 8:30 am, just like it was the day before, and the day before that. What can she say, she loves continuity. Penelope notices a colourful banner on the shop window that wasn’t there yesterday. 

“ _UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT”_

Penelope wrinkles her nose, she liked the old manager. He always gave her cheaper coffee, granted that’s because he would also always hit on her, but Penelope wasn’t complaining. She pushes open the door, surprised at the pleasant sound of chimes twinkling together. The coffee shop looks more or less the same, the only thing different is the chimes and the new plants placed strategically around. Penelope joins the line, it’s long like it always is. She contemplates for a second about asking for M.G’s help, she doesn’t want to drag him into this, considering the fact that all this is so sudden. Even she isn’t as prepared as she always is. But she remembers that she had promised to stay safe, and four hands are better than two. So she pulls out her phone and types out a text to M.G. She knows he’ll be awake because he worked the night shift, so he should be finishing up soon.

 _“Need your help tonight, you free?”_ The reply is instant.

_“For you, always. What do you need?”_

_“Help with a job, might be a bit confrontational, can you handle?”_

_“Of course I can, I don’t work for the police for nothing.”_

_“Speaking of working, why aren’t you?”_

_“Taking a shit.”_ Penelope snorts.

“ _Classy, are you using your paperwork as toilet paper too?”_

_“Fuck yeah, it’s soft on my ass. I’m home in 30 mins by the way.”_

Before Penelope can type out a reply, a voice in front of her speaks. It’s soft, and Penelope thinks it’s oddly familiar. Penelope looks up, eyes widening as realises she’s at the front of the line. Then, as if she was just punched in the throat, she chokes on her salvia as she forgets to breathe when makes eye contact with the owner of the familiar voice.

 _Josie._

Penelope is an articulate person. She always knows what to say, every word she speaks oozes confidence and radiates ruthlessness. She has a reply for everything, never faltering. She doesn’t think she’s ever stuttered in her life before. She’s quite sure she came out of her mother’s womb speaking perfectly English. So when she makes eye contact with the beautiful brunette and all her articulation is thrown out the window, Penelope is very embarrassed.

 “ _Hi,”_ Josie says, recognition flickering in her eyes as she shines a bright smile at Penelope, who is frozen on the spot. Penelope says nothing for a fraction of a second, any longer and this will get awkward. So to avoid that Penelope opens her mouth and replies, but she gets caught between a hello and a hi.

 _“Hilo,”_ _So much for not making it awkward,_ Penelope mentally berates herself, _get it together you dumb bitch._ Josie gives her a questioning look, but the smile never leaves her face. Penelope clears her throat and tries again, “Hello.”

 _“Penelope, right? From the club?”_ Penelope is surprised that Josie remembers. Somehow, that boosts her ego, and Penelope can almost _feel_ the confidence that she knows and loves seep back into her veins. She comes back from her momentary (embarrassing) falter in speech. She gives her signature smirk and nods.

“ _That’s right, you’re the pretty girl who doesn’t like lemon lime bitters.”_ Penelope knows not to tell Josie that she knows her name, since the girl never actually told her.

 _“My name is Josie actually,”_ she says with a smile, “ _I’m surprised you remember me.”_

 _“I never forget a pretty face, and yours is gorgeous so it’s practically burned into my head,”_ Josie’s cheeks instantly redden with a blush, and her lips fight off a wide smile. They hold eye contact for a second, before Penelope hears an impatient clearing of a throat behind them. They’re snapped out of their staring contest as they simultaneous realise that Penelope is at the front of the line and still hasn’t ordered. Josie clears her throat, her face showing embarrassment.

“ _What can I get you?”_ Josie is biting her lip in the most adorable way, and Penelope feels an unfamiliar twinge run through her body. Like a cold shiver, only pleasant.

 _“Medium hazelnut latte,”_ Penelope pulls out her card to pay, but Josie’s hand blocks the machine.

" _It’s- uh, it’s on me,”_ Josie says with a shy smile, “ _you know,_ _from one hot girl to another?”_ Her words mirror the ones that Penelope had said the first time they met in the club. A smile tugs at Penelope’s lips.

“ _Couldn’t you get fired for that?”_ Josie shrugs.

“ _I can’t exactly fire myself, can I,”_ Josie says, before frowning slightly, her eyes flicker to the left and she whispers mostly to herself, _“oh shoot that’s what quitting is.”_

Just her luck, Penelope infers that Josie must be the new owner of the coffee shop she just so happens to frequent. She thinks it’s fitting, a cute girl like Josie owning a cute little coffee shop. Penelope tries to fight the smile off her lips, she doesn’t know why or how but the girl has made her smile more in the last minute than everyone has in the last week, combined. _Definitely a witch, this is black magic,_ Penelope thinks, _that’s the only plausible explanation._

 _Or you’re attracted to her_ , a voice in her subconscious says. Penelope shakes her from her thoughts. Penelope doesn’t _get_ attracted.

“ _You didn’t even drink the lemon lime bitter, it’s only fair I pay for the coffee.”_ Josie looks at her for a brief second, Penelope can almost see the wheels turning in her brain. Suddenly, Josie’s demeanour changes from shy to borderline confident. She smiles (in her version of seductive) at Penelope.

 _“I’ll tell you what, you can pay me in another way,”_ Penelope raises both eyebrows and feigns shock.

“ _Josie! That’s called prostitution and I’m pretty sure it’s illegal,”_ Josie looks at her with wide, embarrassed eyes.

“ _Wait n-no that’s not what I meant!”_ Josie looks panicked, Penelope looks amused, “ _I was just going to say you can pay me by sitting down with me, I’m about to go on break and I don’t want to spend it alone.”_

Josie looks at Penelope hopefully, and the latter takes a moment to reply, but before she can a voice behind her speaks.

“ _Jesus just say yes and get your damn coffee,”_ Penelope whips around to find an impatient looking middle-aged man glaring at her. She smiles a sweet, fake smile at him and bats her eyelids twice.

 _“You have been waiting in this line for less than two minutes,”_ her tone is so calm it’s almost spiteful, _“if your mother waited nine months to give birth to your whiny, impatient self, I’m sure you can wait a_ second _longer for coffee.”_

The man sends her a deadly glare that she deflects with her unimpressed face. She turns back around and gives a shocked Josie a wink before moving off to the side and finding a seat. She opts for a table in the corner next to the window. Penelope watches as Josie moves from the register to the coffee machines, another worker taking her place at the register. Penelope notices Josie’s concentration, her lips form a small (cute) pout as she carefully pours milk foam into the coffee cup to make a pattern. Her eyes are focused intently on pouring just the right way, her brows are furrowed ever so slightly. When she gets the pattern just right, Penelope is amused (smitten) at the way she grins and mouths ‘ _yes!’_ To herself.

Josie then walks out from behind the counter, carrying a tray with two coffee cups and two muffins. She spots Penelope and gives her a shy smile as she walks towards her. Penelope catches herself thinking that Josie is quite possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen in her life. That unfamiliar feeling has returned, settling in her stomach. It’s almost like she’s _nervous_. But that’s impossible, to be nervous would mean that Penelope would have to be capable of complex human emotions, and she is most definitely not. Penelope feels what most basic humans would feel, she is basically either angry or happy. Most of the time, she’s indifferent. She is almost sure she’s a robot, so when Josie walks over to her all cute and bubbly somehow making Penelope feel an impatient longing, she thinks she needs to update her software because she is definitely malfunctioning.

Josie carefully places down the tray and looks at Penelope with a bright smile. Penelope returns it and gestures for her to sit down.

“ _Thank you for spending my break with me, I hope I didn’t cut through other plans,”_ Josie looks down shyly when Penelope flashes an alluring smile at her.

“ _Don’t worry about that, I would ditch my own funeral if that meant I could have a drink with a pretty girl like you,”_ Penelope doesn’t know why she’s being so flirty, or what she’s trying to gain from this. They aren’t at the nightclub, and Penelope isn’t looking for a distraction to take home. She has no business making Josie blush all over the place, but here she is, doing exactly that. 

" _That is borderline necrophilia, but somehow oddly flattering,”_ Josie says with a laugh. Penelope feels her heart speed up at the sound. _Am I having a fucking heart attack right now?_ She wills herself to be same calm, calculated girl she always is.

“ _So, Josie,”_ Penelope likes the way the girl’s name rolls off her tongue, and she can’t help but think about how she’d love the girl _on_ her tongue, “ _tell me about yourself.”_

“ _U_ _h- I- you want to know about me?”_ Josie looks surprised at the question, as if she’s not used to being asked that, “ _sorry, I just- I don’t get asked that a lot I’m not sure what to say, oh god I sound so boring, I promise I have a personality!”_

Penelope gives her an amused smile, “ _let’s start with how you came about owning this coffee shop.”_

 _“I robbed the previous owner at gunpoint for it,”_ Josie deadpans, before breaking out into a wide smile at the look of shock on Penelope’s face, “ _I’m kidding! I bought it with the money I inherited from my father.”_

“ _Why a coffee shop?”_ Josie gives her a thoughtful look, Penelope can see her stringing words together.

“ _I don’t know, when my dad…”_ Josie hesitates, Penelope can see she isn’t sure if she should continue, and she is right because Josie corrects herself, _“when I got the inheritance money, it was the first time I ever really got to do something on my own, you know?”_

 _“I can’t say I do, please elaborate,”_ Penelope gives her a reassuring smile, and Josie looks elated at the fact that Penelope seems to be interested in what she has to say.

“ _Well, it’s like this,”_ Josie is gesturing with her hands, and Penelope thinks its bewitching, “ _I spent my entire life following others. My dad, my mom, my sister Lizzie, they all had a say in what I did. They were always there, and I loved the support but… I just felt like I…”_

 _"You weren’t living your own life, others were living it through you vicariously?”_ Josie claps her hands together animatedly.

" _Yes! Exactly that!”_ Josie’s smile is wide, and Penelope knows she isn’t used to people understanding her, “ _I felt like it was finally time I did something for myself, by myself. So, I made a spontaneous decision to move from Brooklyn to here, then I saw an ad for this coffee shop and I made another spontaneous decision to buy it.”_

 _“That’s a lot of spontaneous decisions,”_ Josie laughs, Penelope’s heart has an aneurism.

“ _I may or may not be addicted to making spontaneous decisions,”_

 _"Well I, for one, am glad that you are,”_ her words are sweet like honey, “ _as much as I liked the old owner, the new one is much more my type_.”

Josie smiles bashfully, and Penelope wonders how so much purity can be stuffed into one girl.

“ _I’m glad,”_ they share a moment of silence, both staring at each other. A hot feeling shoots through Penelope’s body, she feels it coursing through her veins.

“ _Tell me more,”_ Penelope says, trying to distract herself from the unfamiliar feeling raging through her body. Penelope is unsettled, she’s used to knowing _everything,_ there is nothing unfamiliar to her, she’s Penelope Park for god’s sake. Then she realises, this isn’t a situation she can follow a routine for. Penelope doesn’t get attracted, or at least she didn’t think she could, but now as she is sitting here in front of Josie, she thinks she might actually feel an attraction building. Penelope thought she was incapable of this, and Penelope is _never_ wrong, except, now she might be. Somehow, being in uncharted territory gives her a feeling of exhilaration.

“ _Um, well I moved here with my sister, I don’t know if you remember but it was the blonde girl who pulled me away at the club.”_

_"You mean the blonde girl who pointed out how you were eyeing me.”_

_“I- uh, I don’t think I recall_ , “Josie says, her face scrunched up in embarrassment, she’s looking everywhere expect at Penelope, _“I think I just got amnesia, literally just then, how crazy!”_

“ _You don’t recall the fact you wanted to,”_ Penelope uses her fingers as quotation marks, _“ravish the sexy bartender?”_

 _“That is not what she said! She said bang and called you the hot bartender,”_ Josie says smugly, before she realises what she’s done. Penelope smirks at her, and Josie’s face flushes with embarrassment.

“ _So you do recall,”_ Josie groans, putting her face into her palms, “ _on the bright side, I think you just single handily cured amnesia.”_

 _“This is so embarrassing,”_ Josie mutters, shaking her head. Penelope finds it riveting.

“ _It would be for a regular person,”_ Josie gives her a questioning look.

“ _Are you saying I’m not a regular person?”_

“ _Regular people aren’t as gorgeous as you are.”_

“ _Are you always this charming?”_

“ _Are you always this pretty?”_ Josie’s smile might as well be permanently plastered on her face, Penelope feels a swell of pride in her chest knowing she’s the cause of the smile. It immediately ceases though, as her internal being fights to return Penelope back to the cold, ruthless person she always is. It’s almost like Josie has woken up a different side to her, one she didn’t know existed. Now, her two sides are fighting for dominance, and she isn’t sure which of the sides she wants to win.

Josie opens her mouth to say something, before her eyes widen with realisation and she lets out a tiny gasp, putting her hand over her mouth.

 _“Oh my god, I’ve been talking about myself the entire time,”_ Penelope thinks that is a blessing, “ _please, tell me about yourself.”_

 _“I’m a remorseless serial killer,”_ Josie laughs, almost snorts, at the statement.

" _Yeah, and I’m the queen of England,”_ she jokes. Penelope gives her an amused smile, _if only she knew._

Before their conversation can continue any longer, Penelope’s phone vibrates. It’s a text from M.G saying he’s home now. As much as Penelope wants to keep talking to Josie, she knows she has to get home and formulate a plan for tonight. Talking to Josie has almost made her forget her prior commitments, and that is a concern for Penelope. She brushes it off though, she can work around it, she’s _always_ prepared.

“ _Unfortunately, I have to leave now,”_ she says, standing up. Josie looks sad at the announcement, but still rises with her.

“Oh y _es of course, thank you again for keeping me company.”_ Penelope flashes a striking smile at her.

“ _I can’t think of a better way to have spent my morning,”_ She says with a wink, turning around to leave.

“ _Wait!”_ Josie says abruptly, and a bit too loud. Penelope turns back around with a smile, “ _am I going to see you again?”_

 _“Now that I know you own this shop, how can I not come back?”_ Josie’s lips form an adorable grin, and she nods happily, waving goodbye to Penelope.

Penelope knows she shouldn’t come back, Josie is already proving to be a distraction. Right now she can’t afford to be distracted, she has a job to do, one that is dangerous. She needs to keep her head in the game, she needs to be the same Penelope Park she always is. Cold-blooded killer, not a charming lady (Josie) chaser. She has no time for romance, or whatever she’s feeling. Despite chanting these things in her head over and over again, Penelope knows that tomorrow she’ll be right back in the coffee store. Because Penelope is Penelope, and she’ll chase everything unknown until it becomes known. At least, that’s what she tells herself.

Deep down, Penelope knows she feels an insatiable need to know more about Josie. There is _something_ about her that makes Penelope feel drawn to her, _attracted_ to her. Perhaps it’s the fact they are complete opposites.

Josie is heavenly.

Penelope is hellish.

That makes it all the more enthralling for Penelope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you guys think? Leave a comment or a kudos if you liked it. I had massive writers block while writing this chapter so it's not as good as I wanted it to be but I literally could not think of what to write ): Still, I hope you enjoyed it! Until next time, stay safe and have a good day/week <3

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think about the fic so far?


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